Horror in the Zoo
by Cudabear
Summary: {Sequel to Death in the Zoo} Six months ago, a horrible villain terrorized the zoo. Nothing could have prepared them for the evil and chaos one animal could cause. In the end, Private was the only one that was left physically scarred. But when animals around the zoo begin being attacked without provocation, the zoo animals will learn that scars can run deeper than skin level.
1. Nightmares

**~( Horror in the Zoo )~  
** A Penguins of Madagascar story by Cudabear

 **~Disclaimer:** This story is a sequel to Death in the Zoo. While it's not entirely necessary to read that story first, I recommend you do to fully understand what's going on in this story.

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - Nightmares**

A flash of lightning signaled the destruction of something precious.

The light graced his eyes, dancing down from the heavens as though it was a gift from some deity. It formed patterns his brain couldn't even comprehend, lighting up sections of the sky piece by piece until the entire black void above him became a blinding white. A great pain ran through him as the light enclosed him. He closed his eyes, or at least felt the sensation of his eyes closing, yet the whiteness still remained.

What would have been different if he hadn't been so ignorant?

The white of the lightning began to melt away as a putrid green color overtook it, bubbling and sizzling it's way up in jagged lines that tore apart the gift from heaven. He felt sick at the sight of it, a great wave of dizziness and nausea passing through him as he watched the white lightning become completely snuffed out. When all that remained was the putrid green mess, he felt himself retch, even though he wasn't even sure he had a mouth to retch with.

Why did they let it boil underneath the surface until it was too late to prevent the skin from cracking?

A great heat began to overtake him, and the green before him began to bubble and sizzle at a faster and faster rate, until it seemed as though it was violently overflowing from the edges of his vision. The green hue began to slowly fade, and then it quickly became red. It was the deepest, most intense red he had ever seen in his life. Without trying, he felt himself seething with anger, his entire entity trembling. Images flashed before his mind, a blank face, a blood-stained crowbar, a paw clutching a bunch of feathers. They caused him to cry out in fury, but no sound emanated from him.

Why couldn't he have defended them? Why couldn't he have defended himself?

The consuming red light began to fade, slowly becoming less and less aggravating. Even though, he felt himself struggle to breath, like it still held a tight grip on his throat. As the red began to fade, streams of blue began to pour into his field of view at an astounding rate. Suddenly he felt claustrophobic, like the blue streams were going to snuff him out if he didn't stop them. He could find no way to do so, though, and they poured.

And they poured.

And they filled him with dread.

His breaths came choppier and choppier, until he could no longer feel himself breathe at all. Darkness began to flood the edges of his vision as he became engulfed in anxiety.

 _Why couldn't he breathe?_

* * *

Private sat bolt upright in his bed, choking and sputtering on his own saliva. He dabbed at the corners of his beak with his flippers and discovered chunks of whatever last night's dinner was. Grimacing, he looked behind him and noticed his stack of pillows had collapsed and the pillows had wrapped around him like a cocoon.

He heard Kowalski's voice ring through his head. _It's important you never sleep flat on your back. The veterinarian said that your good lung could fill with fluid and you could drown without ever knowing it._

Right. Drowning in his sleep. A fitting death for a bird that lived in a headquarters surrounded by water, he figured.

The stout penguin reached behind him and maneuvered the pillows into a safer position, one that would help him make it through the night alive rather than provide padding for his eventual coffin. He was happy to see not very much of his vomit had made it to the cloth of the pillows, so it wouldn't be too hard to clean himself up.

Before he hopped out of his cot he briefly did an inspection on the usual places. He blinked a few times and looked around the dark headquarters to make sure his vision wasn't blurry and it would be safe to stand up. No feeling of dizziness; check. He felt the soft spot on his head to make sure he hadn't reopened the scar there. No sign of blood; check. He felt his chest under his feathers that still hadn't completely regrown and the bumps of the stitches that still remained there, ensuring none of them had reopened. No pain; check.

 _Good job, Doctor Private_ , he thought, _you've given yourself a clean bill of health._

He slowly swung his legs over the side of the cot, feeling the cold kiss of the concrete floor on his webbed feet. He stood up slowly, balancing himself on the edge of the cot to insure himself against his legs giving out. He grabbed the crutch that had been left for him the night before, and propped it up under his wing.

It wasn't that he really needed it to balance himself. It was more because even the simple act of walking caused his body to hate itself and restrict the oxygen flow to his brain. So, he figured it would be wise to sate his starving body and try to convince it to save some of that oxygen for the brain that really needed it by offloading some of his weight onto the flimsy wooden crutch.

Private took a cursory glance around the room. It was still dark outside, and he could see his three penguin teammates still sleeping in their bunks. His bunk was empty, of course. Climbing up into it was too much effort for him nowadays.

The penguin waddled out of the main HQ room and down the brief hallway that lead deeper into the penguins' installation. Down here it wasn't as nice as the main room, though they didn't spend much time down here. That was, of course, with the exception of Kowalski and his lab, which occupied one offshoot of the corridor. Another offshoot was the place the designated as a washroom, and similarly the only place beneath the surface with a source of running water. As he entered, a putrid smell hit his nostrils and he realized that he was the only one who had ever cleaned it.

Cleaning up helped him feel somewhat better. The physical sensation of improving his hygiene was usually enough to cheer him up briefly, but it never lasted. When his feathers were free of the clinging remnants of his night terror, he left the washroom and made his way back into the main room of the penguin HQ.

When he returned, he saw that his teammates were still sound asleep. He heard a click and turned to see the red light on Skipper's coffee pot had turned on, meaning it would be time for morning training soon. It probably didn't matter, though, since Skipper would just let him sleep through it again if he provided enough resistance. It wasn't like he could contribute much, anyway.

He heard something shift in the bunks nearby and turned to see his tall teammate Kowalski softly climbing down the bunks' adjacent ladder. When he was on the floor, he directed his attention to Private for only a moment, his eyes betraying his worry for his friend. He then headed to the penguins' refrigerator and opened it, producing a knife and a plate full of fish. Private hopped off his cot again, this time opting to leave the crutch propped up against it.

"Hey, K'walski," he greeted his comrade, "I can prepare breakfast today if you'd like to get a little more sleep." The small bird reached for the knife that was in Kowalski's flipper expectantly. Kowalski hesitated before passing it over.

"Thanks, Private," he responded. His voice was deep and soothing, but the grogginess in it betrayed his tiredness.

"No worries. See you in a few." Private set to work immediately, scaling and gutting the fish so the others would be able to start training sooner after awaking. The zookeepers always expected them to eat the fish whole, bones and all, so it was nice to have the gross bits stripped out whenever they could.

Kowalski nodded and started to head back to the bunk. He took a few steps before turning and asking, "How did you sleep?"

Private smirked at the ignorance in his question. Kowalski seemed to acknowledge this, directing his eyes awkwardly to the ground. "Let me rephrase my question. What was your nightmare like this time?"

The stout bird stopped chopping the fish and looked blankly ahead into the room. "I don't really remember it," he lied.

"Well I'm sorry to hear you had another rough night," Kowalski said, his forced sympathy apparent in his words. Then, he perked up. "We need to find something to help you sleep better. Without sleep, you're never going to get back up to speed." The intellectual tapped his beak and gazed at the cracked concrete ceiling, showing he was deep in thought.

"It's fine, K'walski," Private interjected. Kowalski looked at him, confused. "No, it really is." Private smiled as genuinely as he could, and his teammate smiled back.

"Well let me know if you still have trouble sleeping in a week or so," Kowalski offered. "I'd really like to help you, if I can."

"Thanks, K'walski," Private returned, then tried to focus his attention on the fish so his friend would leave him alone. Kowalski headed back to his bunk, either because he bought it or because he realized Private was annoyed.

Kowalski was the problem solver. It was what he did best, and Private knew it was where was the most comfortable. He accepted problems and offered solutions for those problems. Take him outside that comfort zone, or ask him a problem he couldn't solve, and well, he became as useless as Private's punctured lung.

The rest of the morning continued in the standard way. Skipper's coffee pot beeped not long after Kowalski went back to lay down, and the flat-headed leader was at attention before the machine could even stop dripping. He acknowledged Private by nodding toward him, then at Kowalski. Private responded by nodding back, signaling that the trade of breakfast duties was mutual. Skipper smiled, then poured himself a mug of his coffee. He grabbed of the residual fish tails from Private's pile of fish guts and used it as a stirrer before heading toward the HQ's escape hatch.

"Team, up top and ready for training in 15," he announced, simply, before climbing the ladder, the squeaking of the hatch announcing his departure.

"Wahoo!" came Rico's howl from his bunk. In a flash, the beefy penguin was at Private's side, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as he stared at the fresh fish filets his smaller friend had prepared. Private couldn't help but chuckle slightly as he pushed a sizable stack of them toward the demolitions expert. Rico scooped them up in his flippers and waddled over to where his toy doll girlfriend was waiting for him. He purred softly to it before scarfing down his meal.

Rico was always a bit of a wildcard, but he was a focused wildcard. Rico was bound to accomplish what he was asked to do, but not always in the way he was asked to do it. This was the reason he was easily swayed. If he was given a task he didn't agree with, or couldn't find the motivation in completing, he could be taken completely off course even by the simple suggestion of an alternative. That, coupled with the fact that he didn't know how to communicate with conventional words, meant he was loose cannon.

Private divided the remaining fish onto the three plates nearby, then took one of the plates and put it back in the fridge. Skipper always ate his breakfast after morning training, anyway. Then he grabbed his and went back to sit on the edge of his cot and pretended to eat. He wasn't hungry, but wanted to make sure Kowalski thought he was still eating like he should. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the trio's meal was eaten mostly in silence.

"Will you join us for training this morning?" Kowalski asked as Private took his empty plate, hiding that his was still mostly untouched. Private shrugged and headed to grab Rico's from the floor near his doll. The large bird had since disappeared topside. "You should at least come up for some fresh air," the intellectual insisted. "It'll be nice to have you involved again, for a change."

Kowalski's words fell harshly on Private, and he froze. This wasn't the first time Kowalski had asked him to join them for training, but it was the first time the intellectual had spoken with a sense of annoyance. Private felt guilt bubble up inside him at the tone of his friend's voice, hundreds of hurtful words that he would have loved to say racing through his mind.

He couldn't say them, though. That wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be like him. It would scare Kowalski away.

And then, he'd have nobody.

"Kowalski, I..." he began, but was cut off by the sudden sound of the secret door hidden behind the massive, stuffed fish hung on the wall being slammed open. Before he could even turn to look and see what the commotion was about, a brown mass of fur raced passed him, darting under his cot on the other side of the headquarters.

"Mort?" Kowalski asked the mass of fur, heading over to where it was cowering under the makeshift bed. "Are you okay?"

"No!" the tiny mouse lemur known as Mort screamed as the tall penguin approached him. "No! Stay back! Please, stay back!"

Kowalski jumped back at the panic in the small mammal's voice. "Mort, what's gotten into you?"

The last time Private had seen the small lemur so upset, it was the morning Julien's body had been found, cold and motionless in the bushes on the edge of the lemur habitat. He pictured in his mind Mort's giant bloodshot eyes, the matted fur under them streaked with tears, and realized the lemur was a picture of himself that morning, those six long months ago.

That was the day they all learned of the evil things one animal could do without remorse.

On the edge of his vision, private saw a blur of dark fur, dark yellow eyes, a sharp blade. He gasped with surprised, even stumbled back at what he was sure was real. He saw the flash of lightning like in his dream, and a sharp pain shot through his abdomen. He hunched over from the pain, but was able to remain standing. The grey blur before him faded away, and he then realized how fast his heart was racing.

A crash from the other side of the room drew his attention, and he saw that Mort had tripped over a mop bucket and it was now stuck over his head. His pleads of fear had now degraded into pained wails that sent shivers up Private's spine. Kowalski was nearby, reaching for the bucket.

"K'walski, stop," Private said.

The intellectual hesitated before pulling his flippers back. "Can you calm him down, so we can figure out what's wrong?" he asked. Private nodded and hobbled over to where the lemur was desperately trying to get the bucket off of his head.

"Mort, you don't have to worry. We're your friends here. We're not going to hurt you," he spoke in the calmest voice he could muster, even though his heart was still pounding in his chest. His words were effective, however, as the small lemur stopped struggling with the bucket. "We're all friends here, Mort. There's nothing here to hurt you," he repeated, and was able to get a flipper on the bucket to help free the trapped mammal.

When he was free of his temporary prison, Mort sat up and quietly continued sobbing into his paws. Private sat down next to him and wrapped a flipper around his small friend, gently offering calming words that slowly but surely stopped the small lemur's sobs.

Kowalski kneeled down nearby when the lemur's panic had been reduced to a mere shiver. "What was so scary, Mort?" He asked.

The tiny lemur took a breath much too deep for his small body to handle before responding. His voice came out as nothing more than a whisper. "It w-was him," he struggled to say as he rubbed the tears from his oversized eyes. "He's back."

"Who is back?" Kowalski asked, his brow arched in confusion.

"What's going on here?" came a commanding voice from near the hatch. Skipper had appeared and was climbing down the ladder. Rico followed closely behind. "I didn't think you two wouldn't have an excuse for being late to training, but I didn't expect Sad Eyes," he commented.

"Mort's terrified of something," Kowalski explained. "We were trying to figure out what it is."

Skipper walked over to the small mammal and crossed his flippers. "Well, what's so scary?"

Private felt the small mammal shudder at Skipper's sharp tone. Instead of responding, he nuzzled his face into Private's chest. "He's claiming someone is back," the bird answered for him. "Someone who must have done something terrible to him."

"Who could that be?" Skipper asked, his brow arched with disbelief.

In the corner of his vision, private saw the piercing yellow eyes, the twisted sneer. "Maurice," he responded, softly. Mort immediately responded by returning to his panicked state, his wail immediately causing Skipper to cover his ears.

" _What? Ma'rice?"_ Rico blabbered, his face contorted into obvious discomfort. Private could only assume he was remembering that his actions nearly lead to the death of himself and Maelie. Private could barely remember Skipper, Rico, and Kowalski bursting into the headquarters those few precious minutes too late, after he was already bleeding out on the concrete. It wasn't until after he had woken up that he had been told the reason for his comrade's delay. If Maelie hadn't been there with the Powerline XT, he wouldn't be here now.

"But, Maurice is dead," Kowalski spoke the obvious.

"Not for all of us," Private whispered. Mort looked up in response, but it didn't seem like the others had heard him.

"Mort, there you are!" sounded a familiar, soft, female voice from the secret door. Private looked up to see the grey fur, lanky frame, and friendly eyes of Maelie standing in the doorway. She had a look of concern on her face, and she immediately came to grab Mort from his arms. Private felt himself smile slightly when she took him. She looked around the room briefly, then said, "Sorry about this. We were on our way to see Marlene when he got away from me. I had no idea he would come here."

"No worries, dollface," Skipper said, waving a flipper in dismissal. "Glad he came here, rather than leaving the zoo."

"Yeah," Maelie affirmed. She gently rubbed the back of the tiny lemur's head as he pushed himself closer to her. "Poor thing, he's been having a lot of trouble sleeping the past couple weeks."

Kowalski perked up at her comment. "So has Private," he said, confidently. "It seems we have a contagious case of insomnia."

"I don't have insomnia," Private countered. "I've just been having a few nightmares, that's all."

"I have nightmares too," Mort said, his distinct inflection of innocence returning. "They don't go away. Never."

"Marlene's been helping talk Mort through them," Maelie explained. "She says they're a result of what happened with Julien. Private, maybe you could tag along and have a chat with her, too."

Private shook his head. "I'd love to, but I really shouldn't miss morning training."

"Negative, soldier," Skiller interjected suddenly. "You're going to talk to Marlene instead." Private grimaced at the order. "Consider it an alternate form of training," Skipper continued.

Private felt a flipper on his shoulder and looked up to see Kowalski giving him a reassuring smile. "Okay," he finally agreed, reluctantly.

"Awesome," Maelie said, smiling. "Oh, and Skipper," she redirected her attention to the leader penguin, taking on a more serious demeanor, "I overheard the zookeepers talking this morning about a new lemur that should be arriving sometime today."

"What?" He turned to Kowalski. "How have we not heard about this until now?"

Kowalski shrugged. "Intelligence wasn't readily available, I suppose."

"Don't worry, Kowalski. I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's one of my friends from Madagascar. I sent word to her of what happened to Julien, and I received word back recently that she'd be coming. I wasn't sure how she was going to get here, but she's a resourceful one, so it doesn't surprise me that she's somehow convinced the zookeepers that she's a new adoptee," Maelie explained. "You probably didn't hear about it because even the zookeepers didn't know about it until this morning."

"Can this lemur be trusted?" Skipper responded quickly, his flippers crossed.

"She was head of the lemur military taskforce, and answered directly to Julien when he was still king of Madagascar. When I left she was begrudgingly answering orders from the new king. She didn't come here with me to warn Julien because she was considered defending the kingdom from the fossa more important. Now that he's heard about what happened, I'm sure she's coming to pay respects."

Skipper nodded understandingly, "Let me know as soon as possible when she arrives. I'd like to make sure the lemur that's arriving is actually who you expect."

"I understand," Maelie returned, then smiled. "But don't be so worried, Skipper. She's pretty much your type." The lemur winked, which caused Skipper to grimace.

"We'll see when she gets here," the leader responded. "Alright, Kowalski, Rico, topside for training. Private, you go with Maelie to visit Marlene, and be sure to be back for when the zoo opens at oh-nine-hundred. C'mon people, we're late. Move it!"


	2. Arrival

**Chapter 2 - Arrival**

After all, a life is something to preserved. At least, that's what he once thought.

* * *

Marlene's habitat wasn't far from the Penguins'. It was surrounded by tall, brick walls indented with glass viewing windows, and highlighted by a large fake-rock mountain and pond for swimming. It was one of the largest exhibits in the entire zoo, which was strange considering Marlene was its sole resident.

The otter herself lived within a fake cave that had been moulded into the fake rock. A drainage pipe had been used to reinforce the opening, which was either to make it look less like a deliberate shelter, or more natural for the New York inhabitants. The zookeepers rarely looked deep inside her shelter, so Marlene used the privacy as an opportunity to decorate and make her home more cozy. A standing lamp in the center of the fairly large space provided enough light for the space, a few tables around the place had knick-knacks arrayed on them, and a throw rug covered the manhole beneath it in the center of the cave and brought it all together.

The four animals sat around the table that Marlene had placed on the rug, a single vase with flowers between them. Private had picked those flowers himself just a few days ago, one of the very few things he figured he could still do in relative comfort. The rest of the room, however, including the furniture, lamp, and even Marlene's bedsheets, had been provided by the penguin quartet on earlier dates. Private couldn't look at the table without thinking about the time he and his teammates had sped away from a department store on a golf cart, the unassembled table bouncing around in the back of the cart.

"Thanks for joining us, Private," Marlene started, grabbing the small bird's attention. "I was actually wondering how you had been holding up."

Private smiled awkwardly. "Somewhere between barely alive and just peachy, I suppose." Marlene frowned at this response, so he continued. "Though honestly, I'm doing okay. I haven't been able to participate in Skipper's training very much, so that's been a shame, but I've been helping where I can."

"That's good," Marlene returned, smiling. "Personally, I believe nothing's more important than having something to do to help you feel useful. Really cheers me up at least, ya know? Anyway, how's your sleep?"

Private wavered his flipper over the table to show how uneasy it had been. "I usually can sleep through the night, but I typically don't feel rested for it."

"Same with Mort," Maelie commented. "He's always tossing and turning."

"We're working on it, though, right Mort?" Marlene smiled toward the mouse lemur, who was idly playing with his own paws. She then turned to Private. "It sounds to me like you're having nightmares just like Mort."

"Yeah," Private affirmed.

"Well I don't know how much I can help that, but I think it helps to talk about the feelings you're having so that we can maybe alleviate some of the anxiety you're feeling," the otter smiled again, and Private couldn't help but return the gesture.

Marlene always had a big heart, even if she mostly did nice things to receive praise and thanks. She was willing to take on the tough problems that the others in the zoo were too scared to even consider fixing. Private knew he could talk to her about anything, and she wouldn't be afraid to speak her mind on the subject. He appreciated her firm but understanding tone, her eyes that radiated her want to listen and learn about the story she was hearing. Just being in her home made him feel warm and welcome.

"So, what have your nightmares been like, Private?" She asked.

"It's hard to say." Private put his flippers on the table before him and looked at the way the feathers interlocked. "I typically see a bunch of colors, that mold and change in front of me. I try to play some role in how they change or why, but when I do I feel a complete sense of dread over me, like no matter how hard I try, I can't make those colors stop changing. I can't make them turn to a particular color. And eventually the color changes to blue and I feel like I can't breathe anymore."

Marlene's brown eyes were wide, her paws covering her mouth. She huffed, then said, "Whoa, strange. I have no idea what any of that means."

"Maybe the colors represent something?" Maelie said. She was leaning back in her chair and had her arms crossed over her chest.

"That's a thought, but what could they represent, then?" Marlene tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"I don't know, but there is something else as well," Private offered. He felt anxiety rising from within him at what he was about to say, like some unseen force was going to come out and snap his beak shut if he even uttered a word about it.

"What's that?" Marlene asked.

Private hesitated, but the warmth in Marlene's eyes encouraged him to continue. "I also get panic attacks at random times during the day," Private explained. "Sometimes they happen because of a loud noise or a lot of commotion, sometimes they just happen at random."

"Hmm," Marlene said thoughtfully. "What about you Mort, do you get them?"

The table looked at Mort, who still hadn't looked up from his paws. Slowly, he reached down to his feet and began fiddling with them as well.

"This morning was the first time that seemed to happen for him," Maelie answered when the small lemur didn't. "Before today, he never ran off like he did."

"He told me 'he's back'," Private offered, looking at the small lemur.

"He? Like, you know who, _he_?" Marlene questioned.

"Yeah, I'd assume. And I think I know what he's talking about. I've also think I've been seeing him, too," Private said. Marlene's eyes grew even wider, and Maelie scowled.

"Like, hallucinations?" The otter asked.

"I think so. Never full ones, though," the penguin continued. "Like, they're always out of the corner of my eye. Then, when I look directly at it, it's gone."

"I don't know about that, actually," Marlene said, confused. "I've never experienced that."

"I have the _halo-conations_ , too," Mort said, suddenly. He was still looking down at his feet, where he was now running his fingers through his toes. "He comes for me, but he never gets me. He makes me run, but I don't know why. I don't understand it. I flee and flee, but I never get away from him."

"Oh, you poor-" Marlene started, but was cut off.

"He's gone!" Maelie shouted, making Private jump. "He's dead. He's not coming back. He's not sitting just outside your vision. There's literally nothing for you to fear."

At this, mort stopped playing with his toes. Wetness began to form at the corners of his gigantic eyes.

"Maelie, what was that about?" Marlene said harshly, glaring at the lemur's outburst. Then she looked at mort sweetly. "You nearly scared the pants off him. Well, if he was even wearing pants, anyway-look, that's not the point. You can't just jump up like that here, Mort's obviously already spooked."

Maelie leaned forward and put her arms on the table, her shoulders slouching. "You're right, I'm sorry. It's just-I've just been having a lot of trouble babysitting Mort since he's been having nightmares. I hardly sleep better than he does."

Marlene put a paw on her shoulder. "I understand." Suddenly, her ears perked up. "How are you doing, anyway? You were just as involved in what happened as Private or Mort."

"Just a little tired," Maelie said, her eyes and tone agreeing with her words. "I'm certainly not having any hallucinations."

"That's good to hear," Marlene said, smiling. "And let me know if I can help with Mort at all. I'd be happy to have him stay here a night or two if you need a break."

At this, Maelie offered a halfhearted smile, before returning her gaze to the table in front of her.

Marlene redirected her attention to Private. "Now, Private, have you tried talking to one of the other penguins about these hallucinations?"

"Well, uh, no," Private admitted.

"And why not?"

Private hesitated before responding. He knew what the truth was. He knew why he had trouble talking to his teammates about any of the problems that were eating away at him. He knew why he didn't explain things to Kowalski when he asked.

He was already bringing the team down. He didn't want to appear even weaker to them.

"I don't want to bother them with it," he lied.

Marlene's piercing eyes showed that she didn't buy what Private was selling. "They're practically your brothers, Private. You should talk to them. Look, I know Rico has trouble grasping these problems, and Skipper can be pretty rough around the edges, but I know they care about you. And I know for sure Kowalski has been specifically looking for ways to help you out, he even came and asked me for advice the other day."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Next time you have a hallucination or are even feeling a little bit scared, be sure to let them know. I'm sure they'd love to help you avoid whatever triggers them in the future." Marlene concluded with a smile. Private thought back to earlier in the morning when he had calmed Mort, and couldn't help but allude it to now. Marlene really was good at finding the good in every situation, something even he could learn from.

Maybe Marlene could even convince him that Maurice really was dead.

"Aw, Mort," Marlene said, turning Private's attention back on the mouse lemur. His face was now streaked with tears, and he was scratching violently at his feet. "You poor thing, you really shouldn't scratch at your feet like that." The otter reached for the lemur, but he jerked away from her touch.

"No!" He shouted, then pointed a finger at Maelie. The taller lemur jumped with surprise after having looked as though she completely checked out of the conversation. "You wrong. He chase me and chase me and I never get away, never ever. Like Julien, never get away. He gonna get you too, Maelie, and he gonna get you too, Private," the small lemur directed his gaze toward the round penguin, and Private shivered at the tone of his voice. "And he gonna get everyone. Just like Julien. Gonna get everyone!"

"Stop it," Maelie said, her tone rising again as she slammed her fist on the table. "This is bullcrap."

"Maelie, calm down. Let him get it out," Marlene insisted, waving her paw. "Mort, why do you feel this way? Why do you think he's coming back to get you?"

"He's gonna get me. He's gonna get you. He's gonna get all of us. He's alive, and he's going to get all of us!" The lemur's voice was trailing off as he reached for his feet again, and for the first time Private noticed several fresh-looking scratch marks there. A few of them even looked like they could start bleeding at any moment.

"Mort, how many times do I have to tell you," Maelie said, reaching for and successfully grabbing Mort's arm, even though the smaller lemur tried to pull himself away. "Maurice is dead. I killed him myself. _I dug his grave_ _myself_. He's not coming back. Now, chill out."

Private felt unease bubble within him. Maelie's tone had a certain type of sharpness to it, something that he felt cut into him like a knife through butter. He was sure her words were meant to be encouraging, but instead they burned him. For a moment, he glanced at the exit to the cave, but resisted the urge to leave.

"Don't you understand, Maelie," Marlene retorted. She was up and now trying to pry Maelie's grip from Mort's arm. Mort had begun whimpering as the two tugged him back and forth. "He's not as strong as you. He can't just 'chill out', like you seem to have been able to."

The larger lemur sighed and let go of Mort's arm, who immediately began rubbing the spot like her touch had burned him.

"To be honest," Marlene said, "you've been awfully cheerful during all of our conversations, until now. You seem to be handling everything almost, y'know, too well. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Maelie said, flashing her palms in an attempt to defuse the situation. She sounded annoyed but calm. "I just have trouble when people suggest he's not really gone. I did it myself. I should know better than anyone that he's gone."

"Nobody's doubting that," Marlene said. "But don't forget, Mort's not choosing to have these attacks. I'm sure he'd be more considerate if he could." She turned back to Mort, who was scratching at his feet again. He had now opened some visible cuts and the blood from them was working its way under his fingernails. "Mort, please," she reached for him but he jerked away from her touch again.

"Mort, it's okay," Private decided to interject, concerned for the lemur. He moved slowly toward Mort, who glanced at him with his waterlogged eyes. "Remember what I said? We're all friends. Nobody is going to hurt you. Actually, we were all hurt by him, too. We all want the same thing, we just want to be healed so we can go on living normally, without fear." Mort stopped scratching at his feet, and looked at Private intently. "He hurt us all really bad, and we can't let him hurt us anymore. Otherwise, we let him win."

"How?" Mort peeped up, no louder than a whisper. "How do we make sure he doesn't win?"

Private opened his beak, but no words came to him. He didn't have an answer. He glanced toward Marlene for help, but all she did was blink back at him.

"Sorry to interrupt," came a deep voice from the entrance to the cave. Private turned to see the tall intellectual penguin standing in it, his flippers crossed behind his back. "This seems like a sensitive time, but this is important. Your friend from Madagascar has arrived, Maelie."

The tall lemur looked surprised. "What? I thought they were doing an official habitat release for the public to view later today?"

"That was apparently the human's plan. Clover didn't like sitting in a cage, however," Kowalski returned, sounding official.

"Clover," Maelie repeated, then smiled widely. "So it is her!"

"Yes, it seems to be so. Does she have orange fur?"

"Yup, that's her for sure!" Maelie squealed with excitement. "Where is she?"

"She's at our habitat. Unfortunately for Skipper-or maybe for Clover-he was the first person she met," Kowalski explained.

"Great," Maelie said, "glad she made it safe." She turned to Marlene. "Can we call the session done with for now?"

"Yeah, I guess," Marlene said, uneasy. "I don't think you'd be able to focus on our discussion with your friend in town, anyway." The otter nudged the lemur and smiled. "I do believe we should regroup tomorrow morning, though. Let's meet here, same time, same place." She turned to Private. "Oh, and Private, I'd love it if you came back."

Private smiled at the otter, who returned the smile. The lemur behind her, however, frowned and tapped Marlene on the shoulder. "C'mon," she urged. "Let's go." She turned to Mort, who was still sitting on the floor near his overturned chair. "Mort, c'mon buddy."

Mort no longer looked like he was on the brink of tears, but the fur beneath his giant eyes was still matted with them. He rubbed eyes briefly before mumbling, "okay," and getting up to join Maelie at her side. As he walked, Private saw him wince with pain, presumably caused by the cuts he had opened on is feet.

"You coming too, Private?" Maelie asked.

"Yeah," the bird responded, and grabbed his crutch that was leaned against a wall nearby. He tucked it under his wing and nodded to Kowalski, who smiled.

* * *

" _You're telling me you're don't even have half of this place mapped out?_ " came a gruff, commanding voice before the group even got back to the Penguin habitat. It was feminine and hinted with a British accent not unlock Private's own, but unlike Private she somehow seemed even more intimidating than even Skippers.

"Well, I had hopped that they'd be able to have a civilized discussion until we returned, but it seemed that wasn't the case," Kowalski sighed.

"Not with my Clover," Maelie responded, shooting Kowalski a knowing grin.

Kowalski ushered the group to a nearby service tunnel entrance and the they descended beneath the zoo. The service tunnels were installed to aid the zookeepers in caring for the zoo. They ran under each habitat and had entrances all over each one. It also made for an ideal way for the animals to get around the zoo, when the zookeepers weren't using it. It even hooked directly up with the underside of the penguin HQ. After a bit of quiet walking, the group arrived there, where the new guest's voice was louder and clearer than ever.

"They must be topside," Kowalski said, in reference to the empty room.

"Awesome," Maelie responded, and set down Mort who she had been carrying through the tunnels. Then she climbed the fishbowl ladder and out of the hatch.

"Maelie seems pretty close to this new lemur," Marlene commented when the fishbowl closed.

"Kind of like Julien when Maelie first arrived," Kowalski responded, earning a harsh look from Marlene.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" she shot, her brow arched.

"Err, nothing." The penguin backpedaled, waving his flippers. "I just, uh... I just couldn't help but notice the similarities between that event and this one."

"D'worry, K'walski," Private interjected, causing Marlene's gaze to lighten. For some reason, he felt like it was his responsibility to remove any suspicion from this new lemur, yet he wasn't really sure why. "I think we're all thinking the same thing. Let's go meet our new neighbor, hmm?"

Marlene and Kowalski nodded, and they headed up the fishbowl ladder. Mort followed closely behind them, with Private taking up the rear. He knew the others didn't even need to bother asking if they could go up the ladder first; he would have let them go without question. When the bird finally rounded the surface of the HQ, he was huffing for air. He would have only held them up, after all.

" _Ohmigosh_ , Clover, It's really you!" Private heard Maelie shout excitedly, and turned to see the dark furred lemur hugging a very happy looking, slightly larger lemur. This lemur had ferocious orange fur, ranging from slightly yellow to even a dull reddish stripe along the topside of her head. She had a ringed tail not unlike Maelie, though it was one solid orange color to match her body, unlike the rings of colored fur that wrapped Maelie's. She was smiling and embracing her friend, her face more pointed than Maelie's but not quite as sharp as Julien's. Her eyes were a dull green, almost minty in tone, and they clashed with her fur brilliantly. When he noticed her gaze upon him, Private averted his eyes briefly.

For a moment, Private thought of the day Maelie arrived. Kowalski was right. There was something uncomfortably familiar about this whole thing.

Private went to stand by his other three teammates, who had grim expressions on their faces that seemed to echo his feelings.. Skipper gave him an acknowledging nod to the smaller penguin, and he nodded in return. The leader penguin's flippers were crossed over his chest, and he was tapping his foot annoyedly. Rico's brow was lowered, making him look aggressive as opposed to his normal, carefree self. Private wondered what had been exchanged between the three before the rest of them arrived to draw this reaction from them.

Maelie pulled away from her friend and held her shoulders tightly, her eyes scanning the orange lemur up and down as though she was completely taking her in. "How long has it been? Almost a year?"

"Yeah, I believe so," Clover returned. "It's a shame this rendezvous isn't under better circumstance."

"Yeah," agreed Maelie. She looked and the ground awkwardly, as though she didn't want to acknowledge the real reason for Clover's visit. "Nothing's quite been the same without him."

Clover patted her friend on the back. "We can mourn later," she said, simply. "For now, introductions. Who are these friends of yours?"

"Oh, right," the other lemur returned, perking up. "Well, you remember Mort," she pointed to the small mouse lemur, who waved. Clover walked over to him and picked him up, causing him to giggle. Clover smiled widely and rustled the fur on his head.

"Hi, Clover," Mort said, sounding happier and more calm than he had all day.

"Good old Mort," Clover returned. "I never thought I'd say I actually missed you, buddy." Private noticed her grimace as she glanced at the lemur's feet, that had stopped bleeding but were still in bad shape. Mort failed to acknowledge this reaction and giggled again as the orange lemur put him back down.

"This is Marlene," Maelie continued without hesitation, pointing to the otter who smiled and waved timidly. "She can make friends with anyone, I think you'll really like her."

Clover smiled toward Marlene, and said, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Same to you," Marlene returned, sweetly. Private could agree that they'd be getting along just fine.

Maelie then turned to the penguins and said, "These guys, well, I think you've met some of them already. They're the zoo's resident penguins. To some extent, they keep this place running."

"Right," Clover returned simply, her smile fading. She pointed to each of the penguins and introduced them before Maelie could. "Skipper, the leader. Kowalski, the second-in-command. Rico, the weapons specialist. And… I don't believe I've actually met you before," she said when she got to Private.

"I'm Private," he responded quickly. "I'm, err, I'm the…"

"Private's the private," Skipper interjected.

"Private _first class_ ," Private returned slyly, winking at his superior. Skipper didn't seem amused and didn't respond to his jab.

"Well nice to meet you as well, Private," Clover responded. The small bird nodded in response.

"We heard you shouting on our way over," Maelie said. "What was that about?"

"It's no big deal," Skipper answered quickly.

"I apologize for raising my voice," the orange lemur said, "but since Skipper and his team fancy themselves as this zoo's military I-"

"Military?" Skipper interrupted. "Who said anything about military? We're a specialist fighting squad."

"Err, right. Anyway, I was trying to get a feel for how they run this place, but I was astonished to hear they don't even have an accurate map of the surrounding area, among other security flaws."

"To be fair, Clover, the zoo has several accurate maps posted around it," Kowalski defended. "Intelligence is easy to come by."

"Right, but who posted this intelligence? The humans who run the zoo?" Clover retaliated, leaving no time for the penguins to answer her questions. "And what happens if they've been leading you astray with bad maps this whole time?"

"There's nothing wrong with the way we do things here, Clover," Skipper interjected, not gracing Clover's question with a response.

"Right," Clover dismissed. "I suppose so, and I'm sorry. After all, I've only just gotten here."

Surprisingly, Private saw Skipper smirk at the new lemur's words. Private figured Skipper felt he had won a small victory, like maybe his pride was just getting to him again.

"I guess I'm just not used to a security detail that has their jobs _so easy_ ," Clover added, and Skipper immediately scowled. Private saw her words pierce him like a dagger, the gears turning in his head as he tried to formulate a response. Rico huffed beside him, and Private saw his flippers slowly ball into fists. He opened his beak to defuse the conversation, but Maelie beat him to it.

"Well, now that everyone's been introduced here, maybe I should show you around the rest of the before it opens. Maybe you can see how accurate the maps are for yourself," Maelie offered.

"That would be extremely helpful," the orange lemur returned cheerfully, before growing somber. "And what of Julien. Where's he buried?"

This question seemed to catch Maelie off guard, like she wasn't expecting it. "Err, he's in the lemur habitat," she answered.

"I assume that's where we'll be heading after the tour, when the zoo opens?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Good," Clover smiled, then turned back to the penguins. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you four. I hope you won't take hostility to my caution. It's just in my nature to look out for the safety of everyone I meet."

"It's in our nature, too," Skipper said, waddling forward and extending a flipper. "It'll be nice to have another animal of the same mindset around." Clover hesitated before grabbing the penguin's and shaking it slowly.

"Mind if I join you on your tour, Maelie?" Marlene asked. "I don't have much to do before the zoo opens, and it would be nice to get to know you, Clover."

Maelie glanced at Clover, who nodded her approval. "Sure thing, Marlene."

"Do the penguins want to join us, too?" Clover added, gesturing to the quartet.

"I think we'll pass," Skipper answered for both Maelie and the other penguins. "We're already behind on schedule for the day. I don't think we can spare the time. But we can reconvene after the zoo day is over. Oh, and Maelie,"

"Yeah?" The lemur responded.

"Make sure your friend doesn't get caught outside the lemur habitat during open zoo hours."

"Right," Maelie returned. Clover looked taken aback, like Skipper had shot the dagger she sent his way earlier right back at her. "Well, we're off. See you later, guys."

The lemurs then hopped over the fence to the penguin HQ and out of sight. Marlene and Mort followed closely behind them, and before they were even out of earshot Private could already hear Maelie start talking about the zoo.

"Can she be trusted?" Skipper asked, grabbing Private's attention. The question had been directed toward Kowalski, who had his flippers folded behind his back, looking official.

"Every bit of information I could find on her hinted toward Maelie telling the truth," he explained. "Zoo records only identify her as an adoptee from Madagascar, around the same area where Julien and Maelie's adoption sources are. Either she's not lieing, or she's really good at falsifying documents."

Skipper looked troubled at this. He placed a flipper on his hip and the other under his chin, looking at the ground. "Well, keep an eye out for any additional intel," he said, after looking back up at the lemur. "I don't think we can be too careful here."

Private couldn't help but echo his leader's fears. After all, the last time a new animal had arrived at the zoo, it had been the day before Julien was murdered. The part that Skipper didn't seem to acknowledge, though, was that the evil that killed Julien had existed within from far before Maelie's arrival. In fact, if it hadn't been for Maelie, it was likely Private himself would have been condemned for killing his own friend.

"Yes sir," Kowalski responded after a moment. "Permission to take Rico out for reconnaissance at twelve-hundred hours?"

"Permission granted," Skipper replied. Rico grunted with excitement.


	3. Dismemberment

Chapter 3 - Dismemberment

As a complex organism, his body possessed the ability to repair itself. A fickle power, he thought. It never even got close to fixing the real damage.

* * *

The morning, despite the arrival of Clover, went not unlike any regular day at the zoo. Skipper went on his cursory zoo inspection shortly before nine-hundred hours, ensuring every animal was safely contained within their pens for the day. The zookeepers emerged from the various staff buildings around the zoo a short while later to do the same. There was some brief confusion when they discovered Clover already in the lemur habitat, but they seemed to be content with the fact that she wasn't missing, like what happened to new arrivals more often than not.

It was a beautiful New York summer day, and Private could hear the hustle and bustle of the city just outside the perimeter of the park. Within Central Park, however, it was more peaceful. The sun was shining between the towering skyscrapers that encapsulated the green patch of nature, providing a depth that Private always really appreciated. If he had been a painter, he might spend all his life trying to capture it's perfect beauty and never quite get it right.

Since it was a weekday, the crowds that came to visit weren't particularly large. Private figured they'd pick up in the evening like they always did, but for now they were typically composed of groups of kids accompanied by a few adult chaperones. The children pointed at him in bewilderment as he waved halfheartedly toward them, presumably confused at his battered state. The adults shushed them, and Private could hear them tell the children that he had just fallen out of his enclosure and gotten hurt.

The adults, Private had figured, had read the articles that he knew had been written about his injuries. Shortly after he had gotten out of the veterinarian's clinic, journalists came to interview the zookeepers and take pictures of him. Kowalski said they were likely trying to figure out why Private had sustained the injuries he had, and to investigate if it was a case of negligence on behalf of the zoo. After a week or so the journalists stopped coming, and nothing seemed to come upon the zoo for the sake of Private. Skipper had the zoo's resident chimps, Mason and Phil, translate an article that featured a picture of Private, back when his stitches were more visible.

* * *

"'Rouge Lemur Attacks at Central Park Zoo' _," Mason translated the title of the article as his friend Phil signed it. Phil was the only animal in the zoo that could read human writing, but was unfortunately also deaf and mute. Mason and Phil had learned to communicate by learning a series of hand gestures, not unlike those that Private saw the deaf children perform to communicate. Phil began translating the article to sign language, and Mason the sign language to spoken word the Penguins could understand._

"' _Last week at the Central Park Zoo, chaos broke out. A penguin was found in critical condition, after having received mortal wounds from an unknown source. Other zoo animals were found outside their enclosures._

"' _The penguin was treated for his injuries by the zoo's lead veterinarian. 'The injuries seem to have been caused by some small, clawed mammal," said Dr. Bhatnagar. 'The clawing and tearing of the penguin's flesh are unmistakable.'_

"' _This happened after just a few days before, another of the zoo's resident animals-A ring-tailed lemur-was found dead in the bushes of his habitat, suffering similar injuries._

"' _An investigation was conducted by zoo officials, with help from New York animal control. A second lemur was found dead during the investigation, this time within the confines of the penguin habitat. This lemur was an aye-aye that had arrived to the zoo at the same time as the ring-tail and another lemur. The zoo had just finished adopting a fourth lemur in the days preceding the ring-tail being discovered dead._

"'' _This one suffered pecking type injuries,' Dr. Bhatnagar commented after emerging from the lemur's autopsy._

"' _Investigators concluded the second lemur had gotten in a fight with the injured penguin and was killed during the scuffle. The injuries sustained by the penguin were also obtained during this altercation._

"' _It's likely the ring-tail was killed by the aye-aye,' commented Alice Smith, one of the zoo's zookeepers. 'I just can't believe it, they were all so peaceful.'_

"' _The investigation was concluded and no abuse or neglect was discovered by animal control. The zoo agreed to reenforce enclosures to prevent animals breaking free and harming each other in the future.'"_

* * *

It was amazing how little of the whole story the humans actually knew, Private thought. As the children gazed upon him, he was an example of the ferocity of nature, how insatiable and blood hungry it can be. How it's survival of the fittest, how he was the stronger of the two animals that had clashed that day. Why they should avoid holding their hands between the bars like they used to; the reasons for why they shouldn't throw popcorn in the habitat anymore.

The truth was, he was nothing to be feared. He wasn't the strongest of the two animals that day.

The day went by fast, as it usually did. Before Private could even consider the number of children he had waved to, it was already noon. Noon was the only time during the middle of the day the animals were able to leave their habitats, as it was when the least people were out and about. Most of the zookeepers took their lunch breaks, and the vast majority of guests headed for the cafe. So as long as they avoided the zookeepers break room and the food court, the zoo animals could roam freely.

That was, at least, before Julien's murder. Now, the zoo kept a tighter lock on the habitats during the day, and so did Skipper. The animals were designated to stay strictly in their pens until zoo close, and only Skipper was allowed to leave. Other animals could request permission, including the other three penguins. But Skipper rarely granted it. It seems Kowalski's request to gain information about Clover was on his priority list, since he had so readily approved it.

As soon as the last zookeeper and guest was out of visible range, Kowalski turned to Skipper and announced his and Rico's departure.

"You've got thirty minutes," Skipper responded. "No exceptions."

"Understood," replied the lieutenant, and he jumped out of the habitat, closely tailed by Rico. Private predicted they were headed to the Lemur habitat by their angle.

Private felt a brief flash of sadness run through him as he watched his two more able-bodied comrades disappear behind a wall of a habitat. He thought on all the times he had been able to head out into the zoo at noon, sometimes even on his own. Usually it was something simple, like checking in on a particular animal or retrieving some popcorn for their stockpile. Now, however, he merely got to sit inside and wait for the guests to come back.

The small bird glanced at his leader, who seemed to be looking over his shoulder in the direction that Kowalski and Rico had headed. When the flat-headed penguin noticed his gaze, he grimaced, causing Private to avert his eyes. Something about the way Skipper looked at him always filled him with dread, but he was never able to identify it.

Private took a seat on the edge of the penguins' fake ice floe, swinging his webbed feet into the water. Unfortunately, his stitches and ruined lung prevented him from being able to swim anymore. Kowalski had said the veterinarian thought he might be able swim again someday, but with how slow his recovery had already been, that day didn't seem to be coming anytime soon.

He heard something shift behind him, and he saw the leader penguin sit down next to him. He looked down at his flippers awkwardly, knowing Skipper had something on his mind. As he suspected, it didn't take long for the leader to speak.

"What do you think about this Clover character, Private?" he asked. The question seemed genuine, and the leader looked intently toward him for a response.

"Like, how so?" Private returned. "I don't think she's a spy, if that's…"

"No, no." Skipper waved his flippers. "Not that. Kowalski's figuring that out for us. I want to know if you think she's actually here for Julien."

"To mourn for him?" Private asked.

"Yeah, like she said." Skipper looked out toward the lemur habitat. "I'll be honest with you, Private. I've never quite understood it. Why go through all the trouble?"

"Clover seems like she was very close to Julien, and Maelie mentioned she was involved in the lemur military. She probably just wanted to send off an old friend, Skippah," the smaller bird explained.

"No, i don't think you're understanding me," Skipper replied, looking back at his comrade. "I get that. Sending off an old comrade, that makes sense. Thing is-that can be done from anywhere. Why is it worth going halfway around the Earth, risking life and limb, just to see a gravestone?"

To this, Private could think of no immediate response. He thought back to when the zoo animals had all stood around Julien's grave before Rico lowered him into it, talking about times they shared together, both good and bad. He remembered the confusion he had felt during that time, wondering how people could experience joy when a funny story was told about him, then a few minutes later cry when someone restated how much they'd miss him.

"I don't really know, Skippah," he admitted. "I suppose it's a bit different for everyone."

"Hmmph," grunted the leader penguin, seeming dissatisfied. "I've no idea where half of my comrades are, or what might have happened to them, and the ones that I know are dead I never went to go see."

"You went to go see Manfredi and Johnson's graves, did you Skippah?" Private asked in response.

"Oh, those two knuckleheads? I tried, but I couldn't find a secure way into Denmark."

"Oh."

"It seems the Danes aren't as forgiving as we are here at the zoo. Regardless, what's the point of making such a big deal out of it? I know they're gone now, and I'll always remember them from when they were still alive. What's the big deal of coming to see a gravestone?"

Private paused for a moment, swirling his foot in the water below him. "She wants to make sure he's dead," he replied quietly, watching the ripples spread out from his foot. They bounced against the walls of the pool, and collapsed in upon themselves to turn the once pristine surface into utter chaos.

Private glanced at Skipper, who returned a quizzical look. "But Maelie already provided that intelligence. If she trusted the note she received, there was no reason to journey all the way here."

"Skippah, I-" the smaller bird started, but was interrupted.

"Maybe that's just the point." Skipper looked like he was in his own world now. He was looking at Private but his eyes weren't focused on him. "Clover didn't trust the note was genuine, or maybe didn't trust it was actually from Maelie. Rather than merely sending correspondence, she needed to verify for herself that Julien was actually dead." He paused, his eyes bouncing back and forth in their sockets. Then, he smacked his flippers together with revelation. "That's it-Clover's working for the new lemur king, the one who conspired with Maurice."

Private couldn't help but lower his head into his flippers disappointingly. "Skippah," he began, snapping his leader out of his trance, "don't you understand? Clover's not here on any _official business_. She's here to see-for herself, with her own eyes-that her friend is gone. She's come to pay respects, Skippah."

The leader blinked blankly at him. Private felt as though his words had no effect on the penguin, as if he just couldn't wrap his mind around the importance of mourning. After all, Skipper had the most reason of all of them to be mournful, yet was the only one of them who had never learned how. Manfredi and Johnson weren't the only teammates he had lost through the years.

" _Are you spying on us?!"_ came a shout from the lemur habitat, swiftly followed by what sounded like a rustling of bushes. Private recognized the voice as Clover's, and he stood up to get a better look at what was happening.

Bounding down the path was Kowalski, closely followed by Rico, and even more closely by the orange-furred Clover. Kowalski barely made it to the bars of the penguin habitat before Clover caught up to him, and he flipped head-over-flippers when she managed to grab one of his ankles. Kowalski grunted as he was held upside-down over the railing, Clover bracing herself on the fence to support the penguin's weight. Rico growled nearby, quickly assuming a fighting stance.

Clover smirked in his direction. "Just try it, big boy," she taunted.

Rico growled again before moving closer. Private was sure he was about to take a swing at the lemur before Skipper finally stepped in. "Rico, stand down."

The large penguin hesitated, looking at his commanding officer with confusion. He lowered his flippers and blabbered something about needing to defend Kowalski.

"He's fine," Skipper gestured to the intellectual who was now flailing around, trying to swat Clover's iron grip away.

"All due respect, sir," Kowalski responded. "My status is actually not fine."

Skipper turned his attention to the lemur. "Do you mind dropping my Lieutenant?"

Clover glanced at Skipper. "'Lieutenant?' Pretty official for a group that only calls themselves a 'Specialist Fighting Squad'."

"Our ranks are part of the way we run things. We keep order around here. That much you already know."

"Oh yeah? You keep order by spying, then?"

Skipper scowled, crossing his flippers. "When necessary. Intelligence acquisition is half the battle, after all. Now please, put Kowalski down before I let Rico do it for you." The large bird yipped with excitement, putting his flippers back up in an offensive move.

"I'd like to see him try," Clover shot, glancing at Rico, who was approaching again. She shifted in her place, swapping Kowalski's foot to her other hand and preparing to provide a fight with her free one.

Private raised a flipper and opened his beak to try to defuse the situation, but another voice sounded before he could. It was Maelie, who must have followed the commotion. "Clover, don't worry about the penguins. They're just trying to do their jobs."

The orange lemur glanced over her shoulder at her friend, who had her paws on her hips. "If they had questions to answer, all they had to do was ask," she responded.

"She has a point," Maelie said, shrugging. "Anyway, can you please let Kowalski down? He's really quite nice if you get to know him."

Clover hesitated, glancing between her friend, Rico, and Skipper before finally releasing Kowalski's flipper. He shrieked in surprise, plummeting down and into the water with a splash. After a moment he surfaced again, shaking his head. Clover wasted no time and backflipped off the railing, landing next to Maelie. Rico stopped his approach, lowering his flippers again.

"Thanks," Maelie said to Clover, who smiled. Then, she turned to the penguins. "Seriously though, guys. What's your problem? Ever heard of respecting your guests?"

Skipper didn't look moved. "Attacking members of this zoo won't win you any respect from me," he said, directly to Clover, who scowled.

"And spying on members of the zoo won't win you any respect from _me_ ," she sneered.

"Guys, guys, sheesh," Maelie said, waving her flippers in a dismal attempt to calm the situation. "Can't we all just get along?"

Both Skipper and Clover looked like they had retorts to that statement, but something else broke into the conversation first. It was something entirely different from Clover and Skipper's senseless bickering, something much darker. It was a sound that sent a chill straight through Private's core, immediately filling him with fear and dread.

It was a shriek. A pained, horrible shriek.

A shriek that ate at Private's very sanity.

Suddenly, a bolt of white light flashed before Private's eyes. Dazed, he fell over. He blinked his eyes a few times to clear them, but all he could make out was the blurry face of Skipper.

"What the deuce?" The leader penguin said, astonished.

"That sounded like Mort," came Maelie's voice.

"It came from that direction," Clover announced. Private couldn't see what direction she was pointing.

"Wait!" he heard Maelie cry.

In a flash, Skipper was gone from his vision. "Kowalski, stay here with Private. Rico, you're with me. Move!"

"No, no, I'm coming with," Private said as loud and as confidently as he could. His vision had mostly cleared, but he still felt a bit woozy. Kowalski was at his side how, water dripping from his feathers and onto the concrete below them. He steadied himself against the intellectual and looked directly at Skipper.

The flat-headed penguin seemed to consider the insubordination in Private's demand for a moment, then nodded regardless of it. Private figured it was either because there was no time to argue and he'd be chewed out later, or because Skipper genuinely thought Private could keep up.

To make sure it was the latter option, Private made a dash for the edge of the penguin's fake ice floe and vaulted forward. He reached for the railing and managed to grab it with two flippers, though barely. He felt a jolt of pain run up his side at the strain but pushed through it, pulling himself up and over the railing and onto the concrete on the other side. He stumble briefly but managed to maintain his footing.

Rico and Skipper were already started down a pathway, presumably after the lemurs. Private heard Kowalski land on the concrete next to him, and glanced at his friend who looked upon him with concern. He nodded to show he was okay, and Kowalski nodded back. Now was not the time to be worried about himself.

The two headed after Skipper and Rico, at a slower pace but fast enough to keep them in their vision. It took only a few minutes for Private to feel winded, but he powered through. If Mort was in trouble, he wanted to be there to help. He _had_ to be there to help.

After a moment, another scream rang out. This one sparked vivid images to appear before Private's eyes, and for a moment he thought he might pass out.

A dark-furred lemur holding an air pistol, shaking, as he struggled to maintain a grip on his own life.

A force of death, brought on by a lemur with no mercy.

A sharp pain, icy hot and slicing deep into his core.

He stumbled over his own two feet, and was ready to fall over completely. That was, until two soft flippers steadied him. Kowalski was looking him over, saying something that Private couldn't make out.

"That was Maelie," he decided to say, and Kowalski understood. When he was sure Private wouldn't fall over again, he let go of him. The two exchanged another nod, and they were off once more.

As they rounded the corner of the final habitat that was between them and the utility shed, Private saw Skipper and Rico enter through the garage door that had been left open a couple feet from the ground, enough for them to just run right under. When he was inside, at first he could see nothing because of the change in light. After a few seconds, his eyes adjusted enough and he was able to make out the forms of two penguins and two lemurs standing around something on the other side of the utility shed. He saw Kowalski waddle toward them, and followed.

"What the deuce _is that_?" Skipper asked, astonished at the sight. Nobody seemed to want to respond.

Closer now, Private saw a look of disgust on Clover's face. She looked as though she was trying to mentally block out whatever she was looking at. Maelie had her paws over her mouth, looking like she was holding back another scream. Rico had his head cocked to the side in a confused manner, and Skipper was pointing to something on the floor.

"That's… that's a foot, Skipper," Kowalski finally responded.

Then, Private saw it. He saw the droplets of blood flung on a nearby sack of hay. He saw the small trickle of crimson that tried hopelessly to flow away from its source. He saw the shards of bone that dotted it like rocks along a river, the hairs mixing with the hay and making a riverbed for the sluggish flow of death.

And there, in the middle of the group of animals, was a severed, brown-furred foot.


	4. Investigation

Chapter 4 - Investigation

The knife did more than cut his flesh. It cut his soul. It changed it, molded it to the attacker's will.

* * *

"Good Lord!" Skipper exclaimed at Kowalski's revelation. The rest of the animals seemed transfixed upon the severed limb lying between them as if their brains were trying to make up a reason as to why it didn't actually exist. Private himself found himself tense as he stared at it, his heart beating faster. He felt the feathers on his neck stand up, as if a breeze had brushed against them. He turned around quickly, but nothing was there.

"Who… who's is that?" Clover asked.

"Looks like it could be Mort's," Kowalski returned, matter-of-factly. "After all, it was his screams that we heard. The size and color of fur seem to align with that."

"Mort's foot?" Skipper said to nobody in particular, then looked up and around the room briefly. "Did it get ripped off by something in here? He might have had an accident."

Kowalski waddled up to the foot and kneeled down. His face showed brief disgust as he examined the severed end. "I doubt it was ripped off by some kind of brute force," he said. "The flesh is cut cleanly. Only the bone looks like it suffered from anything else than a clean cut."

"I agree, I've seen too many limbs bitten off by fossa to say this was anything less than a clean cut," Clover returned. Her voice quavered a bit and she looked genuinely worried. She gulped audibly. "Also, there doesn't seem to be anything in here to show how this could have come about accidentally."

Private took a glance around the shack with the others. He pictured things that might result in a clean cut of a limb; things that were sharp and heavy and looked as though they had fallen from high up. There didn't seem to be anything on the shelves or floor around the shack that looked sharp. In fact, the only sharp-looking item that he could find was a regular garden hoe, still firmly secured to the wall.

"What if this wasn't an accident," Maelie interjected, bringing Private's attention back. Her eyes were wide with panic. "Like, what if Mort was attacked?"

Skipper huffed. "We can't rule out the possibility, that's for sure. But, I know every animal in this zoo. There's nobody here that would have done something like this."

"Sometimes the people closest to you are the ones that turn out to be villains," Clover commented. The thought made Private shudder.

Skipper scowled at her. "Are you implying one of our friends did this, Clover?"

"Maybe," she returned. She didn't look as agitated as Skipper was. "Like you said, we can't rule anything out."

Skipper seemed bothered by the prospect that someone in the zoo could have harmed Mort, but also didn't pursue the accusation any further. "Are there any other clues of what could have happened here, Kowalski?"

The tall bird hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation passed diagnosing the foot, opting to instead inspect the rest of the room. Skipper's question grabbed his attention and he waddled closer to one of the bales of hay that had some blood droplets on it. "The blood sprayed in only one direction," he commented. "Almost in one clean line, actually." Private followed Kowalski's flipper as he pointed at the severed foot and traced the line of blood droplets all the way to the bale of hay.

"So what does that mean?" Skipper asked impatiently.

"Mort-or whoever's foot this actually is-likely wasn't struggling when the foot was removed. The blood spray wouldn't be so clean if the victim had been moving around."

"So he was either tied down well, or unconscious," concluded Clover.

"That's my presumption." Kowalski nodded. Then he waddled over to a crate that had been overturned nearby. "This looks like a box of work cloths, or something of that nature. Perhaps the victim grabbed a few of these to help stem the bleeding?"

Private waddled over to the intellectual, looking in the box. He grabbed a rag out and noticed it had a few small, dried blood smears on it. He held it out for Kowalski who grabbed it and rubbed it between his flippers. "Interestingly, there's no sign of a blood between here and where the foot is. If the victim had moved over here to get something to stem the bleeding, he would have left an obvious trail behind."

"What does that mean? Did someone help Mort patch himself up?" Clover asked.

"Perhaps. That might align with the state of the blood near the foot. He waddled back over to the small flow of blood that originated from the severed end of the foot. "The edges of this blood trail are already dried. I suspect the attack on Mort-or whoever it is, since we've not confirmed this is actually Mort's foot-happened at least a couple of hours ago."

"But we heard Mort scream out just now," Private offered.

"That's correct. It makes me suspect that this foot doesn't actually belong to Mort, and rather Mort stumbled upon it while roaming the zoo. Whoever was the actual victim was already gone, leaving their foot behind. The box of cloth that's open seems to hint toward them being mobile enough to get out of here on their own, regardless of their injury." The intellectual turned to Maelie. "When was the last time you saw Mort?"

Maelie hesitated for a moment, her face still full of shock. "I think it was shortly before we caught you spying on us. Probably around thirty minutes ago, maybe an hour at most."

"Hmm." Kowalski rubbed the underside of his beak with a flipper. "That puts Mort within the timeframe to have stumbled upon this crime scene rather than have been the victim himself. The blood is just too old for it to have been him."

"If Mort's not the victim, who could be?" Clover asked.

"There's many small mammals that have brown fur in this zoo," Skipper replied. "And even more from the park outside that come inside from time to time."

"Maybe there's something else around here that we could use to identify a victim?" Private suggested.

"Good idea," Kowalski affirmed, "Skipper, I suggest we-"

"Uh, guys," Maelie interrupted. At some point she had moved over the the garage door to the shed, peering out. Private hadn't even seen her leave the group, or why. It must have been shortly after she answered Kowalski's inquiry about Mort's alibi. "There's guests walking around the zoo. And Zookeepers."

"Fish and chips!" Skipper cursed. "This investigation will need to be put on hold."

"But Skipper," Kowalski said. "If we leave the crime scene now, there's no way to tell if everything will be the same when we come back."

"No choice. We get caught out here, especially with this much blood around, we're done for."

"Woah, woah!" Clover interjected. "Let's not forget that Mort is missing. Now's not the time to be hiding away when we could be looking for him, especially if he could be missing a foot. He might bleed out if we take too long."

"Kowalski just confirmed it's not Mort's foot, so I feel you should reevaluate your priorities," Skipper returned, rubbing the underside of his beak and glaring at the ginger lemur. "Besides, searching right now is no good, because if the zookeepers or guests catch us outside of our habitats we'll be locked up overnight and that'll make things even worse for us."

Private could recall the times they had been left in the holding pen inside one of the zoo structures overnight instead of in their habitat. The last time had been shortly after he had been released from the hospital, when Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico were caught snooping around Alice's office for information. The time before that had been when their exhibit had been graffitied with the word _Murderer_ by Maurice when Private was being framed for Julien's death. They had spent two nights in the pen then, but had managed to find a way out. The most recent time, they realized that building was now sealed up tighter than Fort Knox. If they got sent there now, there was no way they were getting out until the zookeepers let them out.

"And what if Kowalski is wrong about Mort's foot. Are we just going to let him bleed out?" Clover looked angry now, piercing eyes narrowed at Skipper.

"Kowalski is _rarely_ wrong," Skipper shot, then took a deep breath. "We need to be smart about this. We'll all return to our habitats. Then, as soon as the zoo closes, we will meet at the Zoovenir to talk more and plan a course of action. Understood?"

Clover didn't look satisfied taking the order. "Mort could be dead by then."

Skipper glared back at her. "You _will_ obey my orders, or I'll have Kowalski change your records and you'll be on your way to Hoboken by tomorrow morning." He pointed a sharp flipper in the general direction of the zoo gates.

"Seriously? Threatening me just because I want to help my friend? I knew you were low, but I didn't know you were _that_ low," Clover hissed.

"Clover," Maelie spoke up again, drawing everyone's attention. "I know this is tense, but Skipper's right. We need to get back to our habitat. Things are really picking up out there-they're going to start wondering where we are."

Clover huffed, turning away from Skipper. "Fine, you get your way Skipper. But you better believe we're getting started on the search the moment this zoo closes, with or without you."

"We'll be there, don't worry, Doll," Skipper replied. Then he turned to Rico, who was busy glaring at Clover with distrust. "Rico, grab the foot. We can't clean up the blood right now but we also can't let the zookeepers know what's going on. With some luck, they'll just figure some human had an accident in here."

Rico nodded, then began dry heaving. After a moment, a pair of penguin-sized rubber gloves tumbled out onto the floor. Private saw Clover grimace with disgust as they squished when Rico put them on. Rico then carefully picked up the foot, trying not to get too much blood on himself.

"Alright, let's move out. We'll reconvene at the Zoovenir at eighteen-hundred."

* * *

The journey back to the habitat was, fortunately, fairly easy. The quartet had to dart across a few pathways that had people walking up and down them, but there wasn't enough activity to be noticed. That was especially important, since one of them was carrying a severed leg of some poor animal.

They managed to make it to one of the lesser-used secret tunnel entrances, where they were sure no zookeepers would be. After climbing down the hatch, it wasn't far until they reached the main entrance of the penguin HQ.

"Rico, follow me with the leg. I've got a freezer big enough to hold it in my lab. It's too late for the victim to hope for reattachment, but it might be useful to study later," Kowalski instructed when they got inside. Rico obliged and the two disappeared down the hallway that lead deeper into the HQ. Private felt his stomach lurch as he watched a tiny drop of blood fall from Rico's gloved flipper.

"We should head topside," Skipper said, tapping Private on the shoulder. "We've been away too long, the sooner we get up there the better." Private nodded and the two headed up the ladder to the fishbowl hatch.

* * *

Unlike the brevity of the morning, the rest of the day seemed to drag on forever. Private wasn't sure if it was more because of his unease in both knowing Mort was missing and that an animal had been attacked, or more because of the new aches and pains that had appeared along his body. It hadn't taken long after they arrived back to realize charging out into the zoo had been a poor decision. Now, he rested his weight on his crutch as he stood with the others on a picnic table outside the Zoovenir, trying not to allude to the fact that his legs were still recovering from lack of oxygen. The rest of his teammates, Clover, and Maelie all stood around expectantly. Marlene had also joined them, Kowalski just having brought her up to speed.

"So, now that Mort's had several hours to get far from the zoo, what's your plan, Skipper?" Clover continued the meeting pointedly.

Skipper, seeming prepared, calmly replied, "We'll follow protocol here: interrogate the rest of the zoo animals and see if anyone's seen him."

Maelie turned to Clover and nodded. "He's right. I know you haven't met many of them yet, but the animals of the zoo are very helpful. They'll do what they can to help us get Mort back."

"Alright, Skipper. But what's plan B? What if none of the animals have seen Mort? Like, what if he's bleeding out somewhere in the city?" Clover inquired. "Wouldn't it be wise to get the humans involved?"

"One step at a time," Kowalski responded for him. "Mort's not known for leaving the zoo on his own. I predict he's hiding somewhere around here. That said, getting the humans involved is worst-case. The humans already aren't that fond of Mort. If they find him outside his habitat again, they might just send him away."

"I just hope he's okay," added Marlene. She had her paws folded in front of her, her face showing concern.

"Let's keep our spirits high," Skipper encouraged, "Mort's only been gone a few hours. Plus, let's not forget that the evidence indicates Mort wasn't even the animal attacked. We also might be able to find clues on who the attacker or victim were, so keep your eyes open."

"Skipper, I suggest we split into three teams to cover ground faster," Kowalski said.

The leader nodded to the intellectual. "That seems like our best option." He turned to the rest of the group. "Rico, you'll come with me to cover the north side of the zoo Maelie, you'll go-"

"-with Clover and Marlene," the lemur finished for the leader.

"I'd agree with that," Clover nodded.

"Sure," Marlene offered.

Skipper didn't look satisfied, but said, "Fine. Clover, Marlene, and Maelie, you three can cover the southeast. Then, that leaves Private and Kowalski to take up the southwest."

Private glanced at the intellectual, who smiled. He returned the gesture. Even though the circumstances didn't really call for it, he couldn't help but feel some joy at the notion that he was being called for to action by Skipper. It was the first time since Maurice attacked him. He shifted his crutch under his wing, ready to move out.

* * *

"Who d'you think we should start with, K'walski?" Private asked, hobbling next to the tall intellectual. They were headed down the main path away from the Zoovineer, towards the south of the zoo. The zoo itself wasn't too big, so it didn't take long for some of the habitats of that section of the zoo to come into view.  
"Well, let's see," K'walski replied, tapping the underside of his beak. "We've got Roy the rhinoceros, the camels, the chimps, and Roger the alligator in our sector. The chimps are probably closest, so why don't we head there?"

"Aye," Private agreed.

The chimp's habitat was one of the four that was most proximal to the penguins', and thusly one of the few surrounded by guest paths on all sides. This made the entry a bit more tricky; there was no traditional door on the side of the habitat and it needed to be accessed from underneath, via the secret tunnels. Thankfully, there was an entrance fairly nearby, and with Kowalski's help, Private was able to climb down into the tunnels.

"K'walksi, do you really think Mort is okay?" Private asked as Kowalski stepped off the lowest rung of the ladder, referencing the bird's earlier conclusion. The intellectual passed Private back his crutch, which he had held for the climb down.

The intellectual seemed to think his response over briefly. "To be honest, nobody can know for sure," he said to Private's surprise. "However, I don't see overwhelming evidence that he was actually the animal that was attacked." The tall penguin started walking down the corridor and Private followed.

"If you're not so sure now, why'd you make it seem like you were confident he was just fine back at the utility shed?" Private asked.

"Simple: panic control. If I made it seem like there was any reason to suspect Mort was injured, Clover and Maelie would have not returned to their habitats, and then we would have had a much bigger problem on our hands."

Private looked to the ground. "So I guess there's still a chance Mort could be seriously hurt."

"Technically, yes. The foot did look an awful lot like Mort's, after all. But let's focus on the task at hand; we're at the chimps'. Need help getting up?"

Private looked up the ladder the two had approached, which lead to a hidden trap door under the Chimp's favorite resting place in their tree. "No, I should be able to get it."  
Kowalski blinked in his direction, then held out his flipper. "Should I carry your crutch for you?"

Private removed the wooden instrument from under his wing and passed it to his teammate. "Thanks."

The climb was brief, but strenuous. Human ladders obviously weren't built for penguins to use, so it meant that they had to hop from each rung to grab the next one, and pull themselves over. It required some of the balance that Private had lost since his injury, and a lot of the strength, yet he still managed to climb to the top.

A ladder wouldn't defeat him today. Not on his first mission back with the team.

Thankfully, the trapdoor at the top gave way easily and within a few moments both penguins were safely on the chimps' habitat floor. As his feet met the nicely-trimmed grass of the enclosure, Private felt some feeling that had left his flippers during the climb return to him. He took a deep breath-as deep as he could, at least-to hide the fact that he had nearly passed out. Kowalski climbed up next to him and handed him back his crutch.

The chimps themselves were up in their tree, a checkerboard precariously balanced between them. Both chimps looked at it strenuously. Neither seemed to have noticed the penguins' presence.  
"Hello, Mason and Phil," Kowalski finally announced after a few awkward moments had passed in silence. At the sound, Mason gasped, through his deaf counterpart made no such action.

"I say, old bean. You nearly scared the pants off of me." Mason pretended to wipe some sweat off his brow as a show of his relief. Meanwhile, Phil put on a mischievous smile and made a move on the checkerboard. "What can we do for you?" Mason asked.

"Unfortunately, I wish our visit could be under better circumstance," Kowalski responded grimly. Phil finally noticed the penguins' presence via his comrade's blank expression at his apparently genius move. "It seems Mort has gone missing."  
"My, that's terrible!" Mason exclaimed. "How long has the little guy been missing?"

"Around seven hours now."

"He's not one to run off," Mason said, knowingly. "Has something happened to him?"

"We don't suspect so," Kowalski returned. "Though we think he may have been frightened into hiding."

"And what was he frightened by?" Mason inquired.  
"That's not important," Kowalski replied sternly, causing Private to look up at him with confusion as to why he didn't just tell Mason about the foot.  
"Mort's not one to scare easily," Mason returned. "I mean, he's timid and all, but he's also a bit aloof and the normal type of scary stuff doesn't get to him. Are you sure it's not that important?"

"Affirmative," Kowalski replied again. "As per Skipper's orders, more details will be made available as they become relevant." At this Private realized why Kowalski was being so vague. Skipper was always about keeping information from those who could use it most, for fear that they might misuse it. It had been the source of many of their woes after Julien had been murdered. Private felt something deep inside himself at the thought of what had happened because of Rico and Skipper's falling out, all because they couldn't just talk through their problems. It was something he didn't quite recognize until it struck him that he had felt the same feeling as he stared down Maurice, laughing maniacally with Skipper's pocket knife in his blood-coated paws.

"We came upon a foot, Mason," the small penguin blurted out before he even concluded if it was a good idea or not. Kowalski gasped and the chimp immediately looked confused. Private hesitated, glancing up at his intellectual teammate before continuing. "Like, a severed foot. We found it in a bloody mess inside the utility shed. We think Mort might have stumbled upon it before us, causing him to run off."

"Oh my," Mason said under his breath, then began signing something to Phil that Private presumed was the story he just told. After a moment, the other chimp silently gasped and put his hands over his mouth. Mason turned back to Private and said, "Are you sure of it?"

"W-well," Kowalski interjected as Private opened his mouth to confirm the story, "That's actually just the current rumor we've heard from the other animals in the zoo. We did go investigate the utility shed but we found no evidence of such a claim."

"Oh," Mason nodded, understandingly. Private looked quizzically at his teammate, but decided not to press the issue. "I'm glad you're looking into things. Mort is pretty out there sometimes so it makes me concerned that he's gone off somewhere. That said, I don't believe either Phil or I have seen any sign of the poor thing."

"I see. Please report it to one of us immediately if you do find any sign of him." Kowalski said, nodding.

"Without hesitation," Mason affirmed. "And likewise, please let us know if there's any sustenance to this rumor about a severed foot. It does make me feel a bit uneasy."

"Of course," Kowalski returned, confidently. "Thanks again." Then he turned to leave, but Private didn't immediately follow him. He felt an urge bubbling up inside him to shout out that Kowalski had lied, that they really had seen a foot. He managed to hold it back, instead using the moment to glance between Mason and Phil, who looked at him concernedly. He nodded to them, then began to follow Kowalski out of the habitat.

 _After all, telling them the truth right now would only serve to make a scene that Kowalski would have to clean up for Skipper's sake,_ he thought.


End file.
